Mariana approached the candy table and accommodated some envelopes under the cupcakes. I saw her do it as if nothing. No one else noticed anything, except Lourdes Menchaca, Adrian’s boss, who had just entered the room with a huge gift and “I didn’t come for the cupcakes.”
Adrian did see her.
And then he understood that hell had a guest list.
“Lourdes?” he babbled.
“Hello, Adrian,” she said. What a nice party. Very familiar.
Renata closed her eyes.
Doña Teresa leaned towards her.
Do you also work at the agency?
“Yes, ma’am.
“And you know my son very much?”
Renata opened her mouth.
I answered for her.
“A lot.
The second game was “tips for the dad.”
Each guest had to write on a card a tip for Adrian. Tender, silly things, of those that are then kept in a box.
“I also prepared some cards,” I said.
Mariana started to distribute pink envelopes.
Adrian got up.
“Camila, come. I need to talk to you.
“Now, my love. We’re with the advice.
—Camila.
His voice came out hard.
That tone knew him.
It was the tone I used when I wanted me to shut up in public. When I made some hurtful comment and then he said, “Don’t be intense.” When his mom criticized my weight gain and he kept checking his cell phone.
Before, that tone was blackening me.
Not that day.
“Sit down, Adrian,” I said. You’re gonna learn a lot.
My cousin Mariana took the microphone.
Let’s read some anonymous tips. I start.
He opened the first envelope.
“Tip for Dad: Don’t keep your lover like Carlos workshop if your wife can read.”
The silence fell whole.
Not little.
Whole.
Like pozole plate on white tablecloth.
Someone released an “ay, my God.”
My mother-in-law took her hand to her chest.
Adrian took a step towards Mariana.
“Give me that.
Mariana lifted the microphone.
Without snatching, papacito. There are pregnant women present.
My mom came to my side.
“Camila,” he whispered, “what is this?”
I looked at her.
“Truly, Mom.
Renata stood up.
I’m leaving.
“No,” I said. You stay so much. You’ve already made six months of a table in my marriage. Hold ten minutes of dessert.
The aunts murmured. Adrian’s co-workers were stiff. Lourdes didn’t sit. He just crossed his arms.
Mariana opened another envelope.
“I can’t stand seeing you with her anymore.” Signed: Carlos workshop.
Doña Teresa turned to Renata.
Are you Carlos workshop?
Renata turned red to her ears.
“Ma’am, I…
Do you send hearts to my son while his wife is pregnant?
Adrian exploded.
“Enough is enough! Camila is exaggerating. It’s hormonal. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.
I did feel something there.
Not pain.
Suck.
“Hormonal?” I repeated.
“Yes. You’re very sensitive. You’ve been unbearable all the pregnancy.
My mom moved on, but my Aunt Lulu stopped her.
“Let him talk,” I said. They always sink better by themselves.
Adrian pointed at me.
You checked my cell phone. That’s a violation of my privacy.
Lourdes stepped forward.
“What worries me is the violation of the agency’s rules of procedure. Relationships between unreported supervisor and subordinate, messages during working hours and possible misuse of work trips.
Renata covered her mouth.
Doña Teresa stood up slowly.
“Supervisor?”
I looked at Renata.
Didn’t you tell him Adrian approved of your commissions?
Renata’s face changed.
There was something new there.
Fear.
But not just fear me. Fear of understanding that she didn’t know the whole story either.
“You said they didn’t live as a couple anymore,” he said to Adrian.
He closed his eyes.
“Renata, not now.
You told me they were sleeping apart.
I let go of a laugh.
“Yes, of course. We slept so far apart that this baby was made by certified mail.
Some aunts laughed for pure nerve.
Renata looked at me.
For the first time, not with pride.
With shame.
“She told me you were aware that they were going to separate after birth.
I felt that Lucia kicked hard.
He also told you not to worry about the baby.
Renata lowered her eyes.
“Yes.
“Then don’t come sell me complete innocence. You knew my daughter existed.
That shut her up.
The three-milk cake was intact on the table. The lilac balloons moved with the air from the fan. On the wall, the sign “Welcome, Lucia” shone like a mockery and as a blessing at the same time.
Adrian came up to me.
—Camila, ya estuvo. Vámonos a la casa y hablamos.
“I haven’t been home to you since you put her in ours.
You’re making a fool of yourself.
—No, Adrián. Estoy haciendo acta.
Mariana sacó la carpeta beige.
—Y ya que estamos todos reunidos, mi prima tiene copia de conversaciones, depósitos, reservaciones en Valle de Bravo y comprobantes de un cargo a la tarjeta familiar en un hotel boutique con vista al lago.
Doña Teresa abrió los ojos.
—¿Tarjeta familiar?
—La que usted decía que Camila gastaba mucho en pañales —dijo Mariana.
Mi suegra se quedó sin color.
Renata volteó hacia Adrián.
Did you pay for the hotel with money from her?
“It’s not.
“And the department?” I asked.
His face changed.
That was my saved punch.
Mariana had found a section for an apartment in the Narvarte. It wasn’t in my name. It was not in the name of Renata. It was in the name of Adrian, with payments out of our savings account.
Lucia’s account.
I pulled a folded leaf out of my bag.
“This was for the crib, Adrian. For consultations, diapers, vaccines, emergencies. You were using it to play start again.
My voice broke in the last sentence.
I didn’t want to.
But it broke.
The entire room seemed to breathe with me.
Renata took a step back, as if Adrian smelled him bad.
You told me you were paying.
“Renata, shut up,” he spit.
And that’s where his charm ended.
Not for my tests.
Not for Mariana.
Not for Lourdes.
It’s over because all the women in that room heard the exact tone that a man teaches who he is when he can’t lie beautiful anymore.
My mother-in-law came to him.
For a second I thought I was going to defend him. Teresa always defended him. For her, Adrian was the boy who never did anything wrong, the poor tired, the man who “worked hard.”
He gave him a slap.
The sound bounced against the balloons.
“My granddaughter is not going to be born paying for your shit,” he said.
Adrian touched his cheek, unbelieving.
“Mom…
Don’t tell me mom right now.
I didn’t expect that.
It hurt a little that I would have needed to see it in front of everyone to believe it, but I still appreciated it. Sometimes justice is late, disheveled and with a gift bag in hand.
Renata took her golden bag.
I didn’t know about the money.
“But you did know about me,” I said.
He nodded.
“Yes.
He didn’t apologize pretty.
He didn’t cry as a protagonist.
He just said:
“Yes. And that has no excuse.
Then he looked at Adrian.
“I quit before they run me for a hang.
Lourdes raised an eyebrow.
“That doesn’t stop the investigation, Renata.
I know.
Adrian was left alone in the middle of the living room, surrounded by streamers, cardboard bears and decorated diapers. Suddenly he didn’t look like an irresistible seductive. He looked like a scared gentleman with a cheap face and soul shirt.
Then he wanted to do the only thing he had left.
Approaching my belly.
“Camila, please. Lucia needs her dad.
I grabbed his wrist before he touched me.
“Lucía needs peace.
You can’t take my daughter away.
I’m not taking anything from you. You’re getting out alone.
My mom stood by me.
Mariana too.
Then my Aunt Lulu.
Then Doña Teresa.
One by one, the women in the room stopped being invited and turned wall.
Adrian looked around looking for a man to rescue him, but even his comrade Fabian was looking at the floor. Nobody wanted to carry him.
“I’m going,” he said.
“It’s good,” I replied. But from the house too. Your things will be with the goalkeeper tomorrow.
That house is mine too.
Mariana smiled.
Adrian looked at her with hate.
“You’re crazy.
“I’m a lawyer,” said Mariana. It’s worse.
He came out pushing a chair.
No one followed him.
Renata left five minutes later. Before he came through the door, he turned to me.
I’m not going to ask you to forgive me.
“How good. Because I wasn’t going to.
He lowered his head and came out.
The living room was weird.
Like after a tremor, when everyone looks at the lamps although they have already stopped moving.
My mom was the first one to act.
“Well,” he said, wiping his tears with a napkin. The cake was not to blame.
And that, I don’t know why, saved us.
Someone laughed.
Then another person.
My Aunt Lulu cut the three-milk cake harder than necessary. Doña Teresa sat in a corner, crying in silence. Lourdes accepted coffee and ate two cupcakes with an admirable serenity.
I stayed in my chair, exhausted.
Lucia moved inside me.
Not like a kick.
Like a slow turn.
I put my hands on my belly.
“Sorry, my love,” I whispered. Your party got intense.
My mom listened to me.
Your daughter just learned something important.
What?
“That her mother doesn’t swallow poison so that others have a quiet dinner.
After the baby shower, we walked a little around Coyoacán because I needed air. The night was cool. In the Centennial Garden there were couples taking pictures next to the Fountain of the Coyotes, children with balloons, gentlemen selling esquites and families leaving the portals with bags of churros.
I sat on a bench with a slice of cake inside a disposable plate.
Mariana sat next to me.
Do you regret it?
I looked at the lights, the people, the coyotes at the fountain throwing water like nothing in the world is serious.
“I regret loving him more than he loved me.
That’s not your fault.
“No. But it is my task to correct it.
That night I didn’t let Adrian into the apartment.
He screamed from the hallway.
He asked to speak.
Then he insulted.
Then he cried.
Then he left.
The next day I found their bags at the entrance, where Mariana and my brother had left them. Doña Teresa came with him, but not to defend him. He came to apologize.
He brought a bag of diapers, a woven blanket and swollen eyes.
“I raised a coward,” he said.
“You raised a man,” I replied. What he did with that was his decision.
He cried more.
I didn’t hug her right away.
But I let her in.
A month later, Adrian lost his position at the agency. Renata also came out, although her fall mattered less to me than I imagined. I started the divorce with Mariana, I froze the remaining account and opened another one just for Lucia.
Adrian tried to return three times.
The first with flowers.
The second with promises.
The third one with guilt.
“I don’t want my daughter to be born into a broken family,” she said on the phone.
I was folding tiny clothes, those impossible clothes that look like a doll.
The family broke when you kicked her. I’m just taking the glasses off.
Lucia was born an early morning in October.
The city smelled of wet dirt and fresh bread because, on the way to the hospital, we passed an open bakery. My mom was praying. Mariana drove as if competing in Formula 1. I was sweating, crying and lying the mother to Adrian between contractions.
When I heard my daughter cry, all the courage became small.
He didn’t disappear.
But he stepped aside.
Lucia was brown, wrinkled, furious. He opened his mouth with a force that made me laugh. The nurse put it on my chest and I understood that that was the only love for which it was worth it to unveil, swell, break and arm.
Adrian was two hours late.
With a huge bear and a face of regret.
I let him see it behind the glass.
Not to enter.
Not yet.
Doña Teresa stayed with me all night. He helped me change the first diaper with clumsy hands and silent tears. When Lucia yawned, my mother-in-law murmured:
“Forgive me, little girl. For not having seen before.
I closed my eyes.
Sometimes one does not forgive suddenly.
Sometimes it just allows someone to start doing things right.
Months later, I returned to Coyoacán with Lucia in stroller. It was Sunday. There was music, balloons, smell of pot coffee and craft stalls near the square. I sat in front of the Fountain of the Coyotes, right where I had eaten cake with my heart broken that night.
Lucia slept with her fists closed.
Mariana arrived with two cafes and a shell.
“Do you know what was the best thing about your baby shower?” he asked.
The slap of my mother-in-law?
That was art. But not.
“Then?
Mariana looked at my daughter.
“That it wasn’t a party to receive gifts. It was a goodbye.
I thought of Adrian, in Renata, in the pink folder, in the envelopes hidden under cupcakes. I thought of the woman who cried for seven minutes and then decided not to collapse.
“Yes,” I said. I fired the wife who was going to shut up.
Lucia opened her eyes at that moment.
He looked at me without understanding anything, with that seriousness of the babies who seem newcomer to talk to God.
I stroked his cheek.
“And I received you, my love. As it should. No lies sitting at the table.
The water from the fountain kept falling.
People kept going by.
And I understood that my happy ending was not a kneeling man asking for forgiveness.
My happy ending was to walk lightly, push my daughter’s stroller through a square full of life and know, with new certainty, that I was never going to confuse company with love again.
